Dimples
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: The Sam version of  my Mr. Mouth. Want to drown in those dimples? 1st person POV. Straight fantasy. Girl in this one could be you! OS with possibility of a sexy sequel! Rated T to be safe.


**A/N:** A while back, I wrote a pair of one-shots inspired by Dean's mouth...and the rest of him. My muse decided it's Sam's turn.

Many thanks to **stephaniew** for being willing to read anything I throw at her. Y'all read this one while I clean up the gooey mess she claims to be and try to figure out how to pay for her melted computer monitor. Maybe she'd forgive me if you could find the time to review one of her stories? Pretty please?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_...but, like the rest of you, I'd love for Sam (or Dean) to take me home.

Dimples

_I met a man tonight. A very tall, very handsome man. I could lie and say I'm not that kind of girl - you know, the type that takes a stranger home - but the truth is you'd have done the same thing in my position._

_It started innocently enough. I was sitting near the door in my favorite dress. A soft, clingy number I bought on a whim for a vacation I never took. Plans change when you find out your (ex)boyfriend is gonna be a dad and you're not the one who's knocked up...but that's not important. _

_I was waiting on some college girlfriends. They were running late. Carrie Ann called to say they had a flat tire. The parade of men by my table made me wish I was with them rather than sitting here by myself. _

_What is it about a woman sitting alone that makes men think she's on the prowl? I wasn't. Seriously. Which was exactly how it happened..._

"Let me buy you a drink," he says, sitting his beer bottle down on my table.

This one's bold. Different from the others. He'd introduced himself as a rodeo clown. I had snickered, but he hadn't gone away. I look up over my wine glass at him and smile politely. "Sorry, sugar," I tell him. "I'm sure you're a nice guy and all, but..."

"Just one drink. I'll let you call my mom and she'll vouch for me."

I pat his hand. "Seriously," I say. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm waiting for..."

He doesn't let me finish. Something tells me he'll be back. That this would get ugly.

I panic. I don't go out much and I never go out alone. Swallowing, my eyes flit to the door behind me. I send a silent prayer that they're on the other side, about to walk in and rescue me...all the while thinking about giving up and making my exit instead.

I see my would-be suitor making his way back just as I feel a draft behind me. I wheel around, expecting to find my friends only to see two handsome strangers. One has short brown hair and vivid green eyes. He rubs his hands together eagerly, as if this is the kind of scene he lives for. His companion is impossibly tall with shaggy hair. He wears a smile but looks as uncomfortable as I feel.

I bite my lip and cast a quick glance over my shoulder. It's a pick your poison situation, and right now I'm thinking Mr. Shy and Sexy is the lesser of two evils. So, I do the unthinkable. I slide off my stool as he passes me, my hand trailing over his forearm so he turns and looks down at me.

The smile becomes genuine. Deep dimples punctuate the look and my knees wobble as though I'm staring into the oncoming headlights of a mack truck. I smile back at him and, stretching up on tiptoe, I somehow manage to connect my lips with his.

He's surprised, but he doesn't pull away. Big hands cup my waist and I savor the moment. It's chaste and gentle. It's not the kind of kiss you'd get from a relative, but it's not deep or passionate either. His lips are soft and firm.

Mr. Green Eyes clears his throat. "You okay here, Sammy?"

I see the rodeo clown slinking away and turn to look up at "Sammy". The silent communication between the two men is amusing. He seems embarrassed. Like he's not this type either.

"Can I buy you a drink and explain?" I ask hopefully, quickly adding, "Both of you if you want..."

The shorter man claps Sammy on the shoulder and looks him in the eye with a playful smirk. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he says as he makes his way through the crowd.

We sit down and I wave at the waitress. She quickly takes Sam's - not Sammy, I've discovered - order and returns to the bar.

"I'm sorry," I say with a blush. "I didn't mean to manhandle you. I just... I'm waiting for friends and this guy was hitting on me and... Well..."

He chuckles, sliding a hand through his hair. "And kissing a stranger was your best option?"

My cheeks stain a deeper color. "At the time, yes."

We talk for a while. He tells me he's in town for business. That he and his brother, Dean, are scoping out a few things for the family business. I find out he's single and that this kind of thing - strange women in bars - is more of Dean's thing. Sam laughs that Dean's probably jealous he wasn't the one I grabbed.

"He's not really my type," I confess.

"I thought Dean was every woman's type," he answers.

I smile and shake my head. Reaching out, I stroke my hand over his cheek. "There's just something about you," I say softly, my teeth worrying my lower lip.

"Is there now?" he asks.

I nod, watching as he stands up. Leaning over me, his long fingers stroking through my hair and leaning my head back, he whispers, "There's something about you, too."

His lips find mine suddenly. Seeking. Exploring. _This is definitely not the way you'd kiss a relative._ I sigh as his tongue dances over my lower lip, whimpering as it slips into my mouth to flirt with my own.

Good golly can the man kiss. I feel it in my toes. My fingers begin to itch and I tangle them in his hair pulling him closer and drinking my fill of him. I think I could kiss him for years and not get enough.

When he pulls away, I swallow. "Walk me home?"

A broad grin spreads across his face, sending a shock of warmth straight to my core. Looking down, he slips his hand into mine. His voice is a deep and dark caress. "I'd like that. A lot."


End file.
